Rediscovery
by elphabathedelirious32
Summary: The Wizard tells Elphaba that he is her father during Wonderful, pushing her over the edge to join him, no matter how sick she feels at night...
1. Relenting

**A/N: This is a random idea I had while posting on the fanfiction message boards. It's going to be a multichapter, but I'm not sure how long. As usual, sporadic (ha, I got it right this time!) updates. But- no school, today, the power, went out, yay! does conga line**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

_The green bottle. _

All I can do is stare at it, and read the letter over and over again until the words become a blur, but it doesn't matter because they are imprinted on my memory and they will never go away.

_My love: _

_Oh, how I wish you didn't have to go. How I wish you could stay here forever and hold me out of insanity! The reminder you have given me of our nights together is no substitute. Tell me, dearest, when can you return? Please write to me whenever you have a chance. I can't just let you go. _

_Your heart, _

_Melena_

_P.S. Frex and I are expecting a child. Oh, this new chain to keep me tied to him! If only it were yours…but even if it is- no. It's not. It cannot be. _

But it is. It is. I am. I have to be. It's why I have hair so much darker than either of my parents, why I have different eyes. Why I am _green_.

He is my father, there is no question about it. And he knows it.

…

He told me. I don't know how he found out. I stood here strong in his throne room, ready to refuse him, and then he told me.

"Elphaba," he said, persuasively.

"No! No! No!" I cried, trying desperately not to hear him. He almost had me convinced. I could change things, working for him, I could- _no! _– he was lying, Elphaba, remember your anger! I felt my anger curl around my stomach, a cold familiar friend, and it made me strong.

"No," I said calmly. "I will not work for you. I can't. I won't, and I never will. So throw me in prison, let me go, kill me, do whatever you have to, but _I will not give in_."

He stared at me sadly. "I wish you wouldn't say that, Elphaba. I am your father, it's true-"

"_What_?" I gasped, sure that he would say he meant it metaphorically, certain that it couldn't be.

"You are," he said. He handed me the bottle and the letter, and watched the shock on my face. "I've always wanted a child," he said, "And I know you've always wanted a loving father, Elphaba. Please, let me take care of you now that I know. Let me do what a father is supposed do for his daughter."

"I-I-I can't-" I stuttered, shocked, stumbling backwards and falling to the floor in a heap, still staring at the bottle and the paper in my shaking hands.

"But you _can_! We both can! You can stay here, and help me make Oz a better place," he pled. "Please, Elphaba. With you on my side, we'll be able to do anything. And you- everyone will love you! You'll finally be appreciated, like you deserve. And I- why, I'll be able to make my own daughter happy!" He grinned at me wistfully, and extended a hand to help me up. Slowly, automatically, I took it.

"I-I-I…" I was incapable of speech. I was exhausted; my mind felt as if it were about to explode with all this…this…it was unbelievable. And I was so tired. I just wanted to sleep and forget all of this…just sleep…

"Yes?" prompted the Wizard. I couldn't fight it, not now. Not anymore. Not until I slept…I couldn't watch my back anymore.

"I-I will…I guess…I mean…"

"Wonderful!" he cried. "Now, let me show you to your room. You just sleep there, and I'll leak this to the press, and by tomorrow everyone will love you!"

I followed him obediently and sank under the covers of the room he showed me gratefully, the welcome words still ringing in my head. But my last thought was that he was wrong. _Not everyone…not the Animals…not the ones you are letting down_…


	2. Sick Inside

**A/N: Okay, late arrival day tomorrow, _yes! _God love those days…**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Also, weirdly, a line from "A Part of That" from the Last Five Years is stuck in my head… _"True, I tend to follow in his stride, instead of side by side, I take his cues, true, but there's no question there's no doubt, I said I'd stick it out, that's what I'll do…"_**

I wake up feeling slightly ill, with a cloud of dread hanging over me. It takes me a moment to recall where I am and why my sorry existence makes me feel so sick. _But, Elphaba, there's nothing you can do. _

_There is. There is. I _gave up_. I _quit_. I gave in because I was selfish! Because I wanted to- _

_Because you wanted to sleep and eat? How horrible of you. _

_It is! What gives me that right? _

_Elphaba. You don't have to give up. What have you accomplished in the past three years? You can do more now that you're inside, now that people love you instead of hating you. They'll listen to you. _

I sigh and force myself out of bed, the way I am an expert at doing in a life that has lost all hope. I go into the bathroom and clean myself off, barely registering the curious fact that there is a bottle of oil sitting on the counter. _Um…okay…well, I suppose the man believes his own rumors by now. _

I look into the closet then and see about a dozen dresses in dark shades that don't conflict with my color. I'm beginning to feel as if I'm a character in some sinister fairy tale, and the insidious villain that has created this fantasy is about to destroy it and plunge me into a nightmare. But I am rambling; I push these thoughts aside and dress.

When after a long journey through incredibly confusing hallways I find myself back in the throne room, Glinda, Fiyero, and Madame Morrible are waiting with the Wizard.

"EEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLPPHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEE!" Glinda squeals, nearly breaking the windows with the sheer volume and screechiness of her voice. She leaps across the room and crushes my ribcage in a hug.

"Um, Glinda," I manage, "the sequins on your dress are bruising me and I think that noise was my rib cracking…"

"Sorry! Sorry!" she releases me, then jumps up and down. "I can't believe it! I'm so glad you decided to-" she chances a look at my face and shuts up. Fiyero breaks the tension by coming over himself to hug me- but it has rather the opposite effect. The embrace is full of tension, and everyone in the room can feel it. Except, apparently, for Glinda.

"Glinda," Madame Morrible says, "why don't you go and begin the press conference regarding Miss Elphaba's- ah- transmogrification."

It's not a question. So that's how things are done here. Some job I turned down, the Wizard's press secretary's errand girl, her porcelain doll poster child. Which I'm not, in any way, and never could have been. I'm too green and too proud, but the latter has dissolved from exhaustion.

"Miss Elphaba," says my former headmistress, a look of disdain on her face. She doesn't like that I'm here, at all, I can tell. I was wrong, but the Wizard got Glinda the Golden out of it, so she's retained her permission. But she still harbors some resentment toward me and it's written clearly across her thickly powdered and rouged face. I guess two years of constantly denigrating someone can generate a little hatred even in the designer of those fallacies. "You must be wondering what kind of job you're to do. It'll involve magic, of course-"

"Oh, but Madame," I protest, "I've lost the gift." I don't know where this comes from, but this is what caused it all. The very idea of doing another spell, however benign, for the Wizard makes me physically ill.

"Lost the…" Madame Morrible looks shocked, but regains herself clearly, sure not to show that she had no idea that that could happen. Which I'm not entirely sure of either, but that doesn't matter. "Well, I'm sure you can get it back, dearie, with all the powers of goodness on your side. We'll work on that, certainly. Perhaps you've just…misplacentified it, that's all."

Fiyero, still standing next to me, is fidgeting and shifting from side to side, clearly extremely ill at ease.

"Until then, you will be working with Intelligence. Having been a member of the Resistance, you'll be of great service in that area." I saw this coming, I'll be able to hold off giving up any useful information until any useful information I actually have has become obsolete. I'm not betraying anything. I'm not switching sides. I'm just…I don't know what I'm doing, and I can't think about it too much either.

"…you'll want to brief Captain Fiyero, and he'll help you learn what you'll be doing," I zone back in time to hear Morrible say. Fiyero has stopped fidgeting. He salutes and turns toward the door. When he sees I'm still frozen in place, he grabs me gently by the wrist and leads me out of the room.

I am still stunned into silence when we enter what must be his office. Papers are strewn all over; it is the most disorganized space I've ever seen, including Glinda's side of the room when she was getting ready for a party.

"So," Fiyero says awkwardly. "You've…"

"Come to my senses?" I ask sarcastically, my wits returning to me.

"No!" Fiyero pauses, looks around as if he expects the Wizard- or, more frightening, Morrible- to be standing behind him, "No. I mean…I thought…" he lowers his voice even further. "I thought you were right. I took this job to look for you. I believed in you…" What he has left unsaid- _and now you've given up_­- hangs in the air. I look at my boots.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For giving up."

"Oh, Elphaba…" for a moment he looks at me…like…like he did that day, with the lion cub…when I wiped at the blood on his cheek…like you look at someone you…love. And then- then he grabs me and I grab him and we are kissing suddenly, our eyes wide open and his round and shocked but not horrified. Not horrified at all…but longing. For _me_.


	3. Losing Myself

**A/N: No, I'm not abandoning this story, my life has just been taken over by this evil thing called "school." I know it's short, but I just wanted to move it forward a bit and remind everyone that I'm not ditching it. Expect updates for some of my other stories, too!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

We pull apart, shocked and breathing hard. Fiyero reaches for me again; I force myself to pull away.

"No, Fiyero, no, we can't." I hide my face behind my hair. "Glinda…"

"But I don't love her! She doesn't love me!"

"I don't think _she _knows that."

He stares at me, pure bare need in his eyes. I know the same is echoed in my own. He reaches for me again, my name a sigh on his lips, the stars and the sky in his face…

And I turn away, choking back a sob. I cannot do this to Glinda. I will not be that girl.

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "We can't." The hurt in his face is too much for me to bear. Belying my words but not my thoughts, I reach back for him, gently stroke his face, and he kisses me again, opening me like a flower to the sun.

And so I make another betrayal. And so I add another layer of self-loathing to the great steaming heap of it building up in my soul…and so I assuage my bruised heart.

…

I can go out in public again. This is a revelation to me. The looks I get are still mistrustful, sometimes downright hateful, but there is no more fear. I wonder if this is a good or a bad thing. They hate me but they do not fear me, which does not bode well, but Glinda, who is my companion, assures me that soon enough they will love me.

I doubt it. I'm not blonde and I lack breasts. I'm green. I'm the furthest thing from photogenic that there is, and I'm more witch material than beloved public figure. The people resent me for taking away their scapegoat. Now, the enemy once more has no face, or, more frightening: maybe there is no enemy at all. Or maybe the enemy still has a face- it's just in a different place. It would, of course, just _figure _if the public figured out how evil the Wizard is just after I joined him.

This trip is just a series of stabs to my heart. I'm good at guilt, very good. I've been managing it since before I could speak. I have a tendency to blame myself, unlike the rest of the sentient world. I take responsibility. It's my own fault I wound up a scapegoat (see?).

"We'll just duck in here and get you a dress for the ball," Glinda says, ushering me into a small, chic store.

"I have enough dres- _what ball_?" I demand, realizing what she has just said.

"Mine and Fiyero's engagement ball, silly!" she giggles. "Which reminds me, I ought to get your opinion on bridesmaids' dresses- no black, of course," she continues as if my face is not a gaping hole of shock. Fiyero and I have not seen each other alone since that day in the briefing room. I wonder if Morrible suspects something, or fears that something will occur, for she manages to be everywhere I am that Glinda or the Wizard is not, except the bathroom. And if she could find a way to get in there, I'm certain that she'd take advantage of it. Then again, maybe it's just me she suspects, of being a spy, and it has nothing to do with Fiyero.

"I'm not wearing pink," I inform her in my best attempt at myself. Yes, I act the part of myself lately. I think of what I would have said back at Shiz, back in my foolish idealistic days, and try to emulate the girl I once was. The truth is, I don't know who I am now, or who I have been, not for years and years. I'm not sure I ever did.


	4. A Previous Engagement

**A/N: Finals. Sorry. Why is life so obnoxiously obstructive to my writing? _WHY?! _**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

The engagement ball.

I stare at myself, in the black dress shot through with slashes of red tucked behind screens of black lace. Glinda chose it. This shocks me, because while the dress is beautiful, it is also almost…_violent_.

_Beautifully tragic_.

A pang shoots through me. Oh, I miss my little sister. What happened to us all, I wonder? From the carefree children that we were at Shiz, all so absorbed in our own small troubles, barely glimpsing a bigger picture, to who we are now. We are the ones painting that picture, but we don't get to choose the paints. They're already laid out for us on a palette, limiting our choices, defining what we can make of our lives.

The green woman in the mirror looks so displaced against the background of this room, disturbing its perfection.

I don't belong here.

My heart beats faster and my breath comes in gasps. I have been a terrorist, I've blown things up and had knives held to my throat. And _now _I have a panic attack? Because I feel _misplaced_?

Newsflash, Elphaba: You've always been misplaced, and you always will. There is no place you can go that will change _who _you are.

My eyes light on the hat Glinda gave me, before Fiyero's party at the Ozdust. Before everything. I grab hold of it, a symbol. A symbol of my evil, the Wicked Witch. A symbol of my friendship with Glinda the Good. A quick movement of my arm and fingers, and it is jammed over my hair.

My reflection smiles at me. Satisfied, I nod at myself and turn to go.

…

The room shimmers with gold, the essence of Glinda embodied in a sparkling, effervescent glow emanating from every wall, every glowing marble tile upon which the beautiful people of the City twirl. Even the Wizard's golden Oz head fits here.

Fiyero, the gold stripes and epaulets of his uniform shining in the light, and Glinda, her dress a festival of gold, are in the center of the swirling skirts, but they are no longer dancing. They have broken apart, and it's painfully clear that they are arguing. _How unlike Glinda to allow this to happen in public. _

That was a cruel thought. I force my mind to shut up and make my way to them with ease, the path clearing for me abetted by gasps at my presence. God, I feel as though I'm still at Shiz. Apparently, not much has changed about the rest of our class since graduation.

"Glinda, I never meant to let this happen…"

"Stop, Fiyero, just stop. You asked me to marry you!"

"No, I _didn't_, Glinda. Do you believe your own propaganda now?"

"_Propaganda?!_"

"Well, I never proposed, did I?"

"Fiyero Tiggular! You called our relationship _propaganda?_"

"That's what it is, don't you see? We're just playing our roles, doing what we're supposed to. Neither of us has ever made a choice, an active, brave, real, choice. We just let ourselves be carried along on the tide of others' desires. I'm done, Glinda. I'm through with being a pawn. The Wizard's. Morrible's. _Yours_."

He turns on his heel and stalks off, ramming into me, frozen in place.

"Elphaba!" he says, obviously pleased to see me. I feel sick again. I hate myself, I honestly do. "You didn't hear…" he asks me.

"I did. Fiyero, I- I can't do this." My words are tumbling over each other, my thoughts forming faster than my mouth can work.

"This…us?"

"No! This, all of _this_. It's not me. It's not who I am. I can't let this happen. I don't care who my father is, I never listened to my other father's ideas so why am I doing this? I don't want to. I never wanted to. It makes me sick. Fiyero, what _happened _to me?"

And all of a sudden, I am crying, and he is holding me, and we're going somewhere, behind a curtain, into the empty throne room where the Oz head has returned itself and lies lank and listless and dead…


	5. A Surprising Turn of Events

**A/N: -cough- Well. Then. It's been…awhile…but…um, absence makes the heart grow fonder? Heh heh. –runs like hell from the tomatoes- **

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

"Elphaba, nothing happened to you, it's nothing to be ashamed of, come on, please don't cry, Elphie, hey, it's all right…"

Words are tumbling out of his mouth as fast as they were from mine a moment ago. He's tracing the tears away, drying them with the warm soft pads of his fingers. My body spasms, suddenly, involuntarily- it does this when I'm anxious- and I lean against the Oz head for support. Suddenly, it growls and glows and shudders to life, roaring.

"Well, isn't _this _an interesting turn of events," it bellows, sending me flying and nearly giving me a heart attack at twenty-one. Fiyero is not in his usual accepting mood.

"What the hell do you want?" he demands. The man behind the giant head is clearly taken aback, not expecting this from his usually obedient Captain of the Guard.

"You're kissing my daughter in a back room during your engagement party to my press secretary's attaché," he says, coming out from behind his larger-than-life disguise. I decide he may as well know.

"I am _not-_" I begin hotly, but Fiyero cuts me off.

"We aren't- that is, Glinda and I aren't going to be engaged- we _aren't_ engaged- anymore," he stammers out finally.

"Oh," is all the Wizard has to say. "Well in that case. Erm. I suppose- carry on?" He disappears into a hallway, presumably to consult with his press secretary _cum_ partner/lover/whatever the hell else Morrible may be.

"Fiyero," I berate the moment That Man is out of sight, "why the hell did you do that? I was about to tell him-"

"What d'you think your Resistance would tell you to do right now, Elphaba," he breathes as he comes closer, kisses me once. I shut my eyes.

"I don't know…"

"Stay here, on the inside, and get whatever information you can, or leave once all Oz has seen you turn your back on your cause?"

"But I-"

I bite my lip miserably and turn away. Because there is no 'But I.' There is no defense. There is no reason. Because it's true. I am cowardly, traitorous scum. I am-

"You're exhausted and young and hungry and confused," Fiyero says gently, reading my mind as always, "It's not your fault. You're a sleep-deprived twenty-one year old in need of love and food, a girl who once idealized the Wizard of Oz. And he's the ruler of a country who sleeps for at least eight hours every night in a gigantic bed in a _palace_, and apparently he's your father. And don't think he didn't take that into account," He registers my hesitant look. "I'm not a fool, I just act like one. I know how this place works."

"You're so different."

"No, no, I'm not different. I'm just not hiding anymore."

He cups my face gently and kisses me again.

"Fiyero, we can't-" –another kiss- "Morrible- the Wizard- they'll come back-

And he lifts me up insistently, kisses me again, and delivers me, protesting vehemently, to my door, where he sets me down, kisses me yet again, and departs gracefully, leaving me to stare longingly in his wake, just like at Shiz. Only this time…_ "Glinda and I…we aren't engaged_"

Oh dear. Glinda. I am going to be in deep shit tomorrow.

It surprises me that, in the midst of all this, as now a spy in the Wizard's palace, _that _is what I'm worried about.


End file.
